Page 41 of Room Service
Except… I feel rage burn inside of me that she’s not here. I feel frustration that we can’t just be two simple people who meet and fuck. I feel all kinds of pissed that I won’t be able to unleash that frustration in one of the only ways I know how—buried deep inside of her, because for the life of me, I can’t bring myself to go and sweet talk another woman into my bed. Even the thought of it feels wrong. And isn’t that the problem?
She’s fucking ruined me in a matter of weeks.
Do I just give in to the feeling of wanting her so fucking bad that my blood boils at the thought of another man touching her?
Or do I fight it with everything I have to get back to the soulless arsehole that I know I am?
“Hello,” I hear shouted loudly from behind me, and I turn around with a stifled groan as I see Chantel bounding her way into my penthouse, with a smug looking Gabriel behind her. Usually, I’d be rolling my eyes right about now, which would cause her to punch me on my arm, but tonight, I’m actually fucking relieved at the interruption, despite my stifled groan. It stops the continuous thoughts of Elise from playing on a goddamn loop in my mind. Or it should do, anyway. I don’t even question how they were able to walk in here without knocking, because like the dickhead I am, I’d left the door slightly ajar, hoping Elise was going to be the one walking in here tonight.
“Why are you hiding out here and looking all grumpy?” Chantel asks as she walks towards me and gives me a hug. She’s one of the few people I’d let hug me.
“Looking as gorgeous as always, Chantel, and I am not grumpy,” I tell her, to which she pulls back from me and gives me a knowing look. She’s classy without being stuck up, her green eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
“You look pissed off,” Gabriel says from behind her, and we clap hands in the way that guys do as he pats my shoulder in greeting.
“Not even through the door for two minutes and already on my case,” I remark, which just makes Gabriel smile wider.
“Shut up whining,” Chantel says as she walks back into the main room and shouts, “Come sit down and tell me all about this woman.”
“Fucker,” I say to Gabriel, and he laughs.
“She dragged it out of me,” he insists, but I know that’s just bullshit. They are the epitome of a hopelessly happy couple who love each other more now than they did when they first met. It’s bloody sickening, and I am so bloody happy for them.
With a sigh, I walk past him and his smug face, and when I enter the main room, I see Chantel is already settled on the sofa, waiting for me to open up to them and try to explain what it is I’m feeling. Christ, I hate that word. Feelings. Emotions. It always ends up with someone being fucked over. It’s just life, and I had made my own peace with that. But now it’s all up in the air.
“Sit,” Chantel says as she pats the other side of the sofa, and I reluctantly take a pew, knowing that the questions will come quick fire in the next few seconds.
“I’ll grab us some drinks,” Gabriel says, disappearing into the kitchen area.
“So, what’s her name? What’s she like?” Chantel starts, and I shout to Gabriel to hurry the fuck up, because suddenly, I need all the scotch. “Don’t deviate, Dorien,” Chantel says, knowing me all too well.
“Do we have to talk about this? Can’t we just catch up and get pissed?”
“You’re nearly forty, Dorien, getting pissed is child’s play.” Chantel tsks and watches Gabriel as he makes his way back into the room, a glass of wine poured for her in one hand, and two tumblers and the bottle of scotch in the other. Good man.
“Fuck, don’t remind me,” I say as I take the scotch Gabriel has just poured and down it in one. The burn in my throat feels good, and I put the glass down and nod for him to pour another one.
“Oh my, this is serious,” Chantel comments, looking at Gabriel.
“Told you,” he says with a smile that has her eyes twinkling.
Fucking hell. I don’t need this shit.
“Will you two stop being so… well, whatever this is you do,” I say, taking the newly refilled glass and sipping, if only to appease them both.
“It’s called love, Dorien. You should give it a go, it’s totally worth it,” Chantel says with a grin, and Gabriel laughs as he takes a seat on the other side of his wife. They are the perfect picture of a healthy marriage, and I know they want the same thing for me, but we’re not all born from the same cloth, and we can’t all have the same outlook on love when we’ve been kicked in the balls and left in the dirt.
“So, she’s married?” Chantel continues, like I knew she would.
With a sigh, I resign myself to this conversation happening. “Recently separated.”
“So I gather. And when do I get to meet her?”
I nearly choke on the mouthful of scotch I was drinking. “You don’t.”
“Don’t be such a spoil sport. I want to meet the woman that got more than one night with the fuckboy-for-life Dorien Dukes.” Gabriel pisses himself laughing, and I can’t help but scowl at the pair of them.
“Remind me why I keep you two around?” I question.
